


Someone Like You

by kay_emm_gee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A guy meets a girl in a bar.<br/>Another guy falls in love with his girl in a cop car.</p><p>Songfic inspired by Sam Hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_I don't want to steal your freedom_

_I don't want to change your mind_

 

Glass of whiskey in hand, Bellamy was just about to turn away from the bar when a short blonde pushed up against the counter next to him. She leaned over, navy blue blouse straining as she gestured for more drinks. The bartender smiled at the woman, nodding, clearly familiar with her. She must be a regular.

Bellamy watched in fascination as the blonde twisted her hair up off her neck momentarily, not quite caring if her elbows or a stray curl hit someone. Her movements had attracted more than his attention alone. A frat boy in a ratty baseball hat smiled at her, and a guy in a smart button-up and slacks gave her a once over. She ignored them both, drumming her fingers against the bar impatiently. When the frat boy leaned over and whispered in her ear, she just raised her eyebrows and murmured something that had him sneering before turning back to his buddies in disgust.

Chuckling to himself, Bellamy found himself curious at exactly what sharp wit the woman had spewed to drive off a guy who seemed like the type to not take no for an answer. Not that he was interested. No, with his promotion at the field office and worrying about his sister’s new boyfriend distracting her from her last year of college, he didn’t have time for women. Not even for a night. The blonde, though, well, he found her interesting. She gave off an intriguing energy, something fresh and alive. It drew him in, so, somehow, he found himself sliding down the bar to approach her.

“Question for you,” he said, turning to face her, one arm still leaning on the bar.

“No, I did not fall from heaven. No, I don’t believe I’m the prettiest girl you’ve seen tonight. No, I don’t want you to buy me a drink.” Her tone was dry and just a bit angry, and she didn’t even give him a spare glance.

“What would you tell my sister, who is screwing up her senior year of college for a guy, to convince her to get back on track?”

At that she did look his way, light blue eyes carefully assessing him. Cocking her head, she shifted on her feet before saying, “And who are you to tell her what’s most important?”

“Because she’ll be the first woman in our family to graduate college, and she’s on an academic scholarship that depends on her grades.”

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, the blonde said, “Tell her that you love her, and support her, whatever she chooses, no matter what happens.”

“And how is that going to help?”

“It helped me, when I was failing out my senior year. My dad told me that, my mom didn’t. Three guesses as to whom I’m still talking to regularly.”

Bellamy took a sip of his drink, staring thoughtfully at the racks of bottles on the back wall. “And what’s your life like now?”

The woman crossed her arms, an amused smirk blooming on her face. “I’m in my first year of medical school, in the top five percent of the class.”

“So, love and support, huh?”

“Love and support.”

Bellamy drained his glass, setting it carefully on the wooden counter. His throat burned long after the whiskey had passed, and he waited for the sensation to recede before responding, “Did I mention the guy is four years older than her?”

“Quite the protective brother, you are.”

“I’ve had to be.” The words came out harsher than he intended, and he expected a biting retort from the blonde in response to his abrasiveness.

Instead, her whole face softened—not by much, maybe only a fraction—and she replied, “She’s a lucky girl then, to have someone who loves her that much.”

Bellamy stared into her blue eyes, now weighted with seriousness and something akin to want. Before he could say a word, though, another woman stepped up to the bar. With brash movements, she not so subtly placed herself in between him and the blonde. Long brown hair fell in messy curls over her shoulders, and she looked at her friend with a questioning, concerned gleam in her eye.

“You’re taking too long with the drinks.”

The blonde shot her a smile, conveying something secret with an amused glance. “Blame Wick, not me. And you’re too impatient. I’m doing just fine.”

The brunette grins wickedly in return, having clearly interpreted whatever her friend had said with that look. “Guess I’ll go harass him. Carry on,” she murmured, sliding away to another empty spot at the bar to immediately berate the bartender.

Bellamy ducked his head to hide a smile of his own, pleased that whatever rescue the brunette was hoping to offer her blonde friend wasn’t needed.

“So, are you in town to visit your sister?” She asked, with eyebrows raised as if daring him to comment on their little interruption.

“No, I—” His phone rang, and throwing an apologetic look at the blonde, Bellamy pulled it from his pocket. Frowning at the unknown number, he answered.

_“Mr. Blake, this is Officer Kane down at Precinct 44, we have your sister in custody for trespassing. You will need to come down to our station to address the charges.”_

Bellamy clutched the empty glass in his hand so tightly he thought it would shatter beneath his fingers. “I’ll be right there.”

Shoving his phone into his pocket, Bellamy grabbed his wallet and dumped enough cash on the counter to cover his drink as well as the blonde’s and her friend’s. With a tight smile, he told her, “Next ones are on you.”

At the confused expression on her face, he grimaced a smile, then stormed out of the bar, furious at his sister and more than a bit disappointed that all he got to take from the intriguing blonde was her time.

 

_I don't have to make you love me_

_I just wanna take your time_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are in italics and do not belong to me. Credit to Sam Hunt.


	2. Chapter 2

_Your daddy’s gonna kill me_

_But if I survive tonight_

_I wouldn't change one thing_

 

Pressing a kiss into Octavia’s wild hair, Lincoln smiled as he reclined against the back of his truck bed and listened to her chatter. They were parked outside the local airport, just beyond the tarmac fence that read _No Trespassing._ It was a bit of a chilly night, so they were nestled in layers of blankets. Seated between his legs, Octavia ran her hands up and down his thighs before pointing to the departing planes taking off over them. She made up stories about where they were headed, and who was on them and why they were traveling. Lincoln just let her talk, responding with a smile or a low chuckle every once in a while. He drew designs on her upper arms, lighting tracing his fingertips over the soft fabric of her university sweatshirt.

As the roar of the latest departing aircraft faded, Octavia leaned back into him. He wrapped one arm around her chest, another around her waist, tucking her in tightly.

“Should we be getting you back to school?” He murmured against her neck. “You have that test on Monday to study for.”

“I studied all day today,” Octavia whined.

“And when did you have time, in between us sleeping in, and going to the movie, and cooking dinner?”

“Hey, I studied! I reviewed my notes while _you_ slept in, and I made flashcards while you went to the grocery store.”

“But is that actually useful studying?”

Lincoln didn’t have to see her face to know she was scowling; her tense limbs under him told him that.

“Quiz me, then, smarty pants. Come on, bring it,” she challenged, her tone brooking no argument.

Sighing, Lincoln nuzzled his nose into the space between her neck and shoulder, nudging aside her sweatshirt’s hood to find warm skin underneath. “Fine, another thirty minutes. You’re still studying tomorrow, though, and in your own room.”

Turning her head, Octavia grinned at him, tipping her face upwards in her now-familiar way of asking for a kiss. Obliging, Lincoln leaned down and capture her lips with his, enjoying the warmth blooming in his chest as he felt her melt beneath him. It amazed him that she was so good at retaining information, about literature, about history, about travel; she was a true jack-of-all-trades, and that showed especially on nights like tonight. Her stories always impressed him, especially because he knew they were not fantasy, just well crafted, creative recounting of things she had read. Enthusiasm that potent was contagious, and Lincoln enjoyed every minute he could absorb it from her.

Octavia broke away with a pleased, teasing giggle, turning in his embrace to face him. Throwing her arms his neck, she arched against him, pressing teasing, barely-there kisses against his mouth, his nose, his cheeks. Shaking his head in exasperation, Lincoln jerked her against him as another plane soared over them, deafening any other sound. The noise of the plane and the heat of her body were so distracting that Lincoln was thrown completely off-guard when a bright white light blinded them.

“Don’t move!” A deep, loud voice called out. “This is airport security. Separate, slowly, and raise your hands.”

For a second, all Lincoln could do was stare at Octavia, watching the surprise in her eyes flicker to something calculating and then defiant. He gripped her hips tighter, a warning.

“Don’t do it,” he whispered against her lips.

“We could make a run for it,” she murmured back, excitement lurking in the words.

“Octavia,” he sighed, reluctantly raising his hands in the air in compliance.

“HEY,” the officer yelled again, more menace in his voice this time. “Miss, raise your hands in the air. Now!”

With a feral grin, Octavia whipped her hands up, and Lincoln’s heart stuttered at the too-sudden movement. Her rebellion bordered on foolish sometimes, but, to him, it only made her more endearing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her the entire time the officer talked them through exiting the truck bed and their arrest. They restrained and deposited him in the cop car first, but Lincoln barely paid attention as they read him his rights, still watching Octavia. She never lost the defiant look, even daring to ask the cop for some of those “fancy airline peanuts”. In response, the officer just angrily slammed the door in her face.

Before tonight, Lincoln had been pretty sure he was falling for Octavia, but when she turned towards him, blue flashing lights flickering over her face, lips curved into a insolent grin, green eyes flashing with an intoxicating playfulness, he knew he was far past the point of falling. He was already in love.

 

_You were thinking that  running for it  would make a good story_

_I was thinking you were crazy as hell_

_And you were so  innocent, but you were stealing my heart_

_I fell in love in the back of a cop car_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are in italics and do not belong to me. Credit to Sam Hunt.


	3. Chapter 3

_I’m so overdue for a little bit of too-good-to-be-true_

_For a ticket to a life with a better view_

_I’m tired of waiting, for the winds to change, and catch my breath_

 

Clarke sighed as she set aside her finished pile of processed hospital paperwork, only to turn to the next unprocessed one. Silently cursing Raven, she rubbed her forehead, willing her headache to subside. Though she supposed her hangover wasn’t really Raven’s fault. That she attributed to the extra rum-and-cokes she had decided were a fine idea to drink the night before an early Sunday shift volunteering at the hospital. So the excessive drinking was to blame for her dragging today, and Clarke blamed the drinking squarely on the much-too-attractive whiskey drinker who had unexpectedly captured her attention last night.

His unsettling opening question had surprised her, and their following conversation had further piqued her interest. He had been refreshing, a breath of clean air in the stale flow of guys just looking for some fun between the sheets. Fascination with a guy hadn’t hit her so intensely in a long while—since Finn, really, if she was being honest. Despite being unsure if he even had been hitting on her at all, she had found herself drawn in by the sincerity and conviction in his words. His sudden, intense departure had confused her even more. So, it had taken more than her usual number of drinks to drown out the memory of his expressive eyes.

Thankfully, this morning, Clarke’s supervisor had assigned her paperwork duty instead of managing intakes at the emergency room front desk. Dealing with angry patients who have been waiting too long or whining ones who refused to follow proper admittance procedure was not within her abilities today. As Clarke reluctantly began sorting through her next stack of papers, Harper poked her head around the corner.

“Hey, can you do me a huge favor?”

Raising her eyes up just the slightest, Clarke held back a frown at her cheerful coworker. Normally, Harper was easy to work with, but she was a morning person, and that was another thing Clarke had no patience for today.

Taking her silence as approval to continue, Harper babbled on, “I was running a bit late this morning, because my roommate, Jasper, was hogging the bathroom, and I absolutely had to shower before coming to work—anyways, I didn’t have time to stop for coffee, and I’m just about dying for a caffeine fix. Any chance you can watch the front desk for fifteen minutes while I run up to the cafeteria?”

Clarke’s immediate reflex was to refuse, because just the thought of interacting with patients made her head throb harder. Still, Harper’s smile was so genuine, and it was only going to be for fifteen minutes. How busy could the ER get in that span of time, especially at eight in the morning?

“Sure,” Clarke relented, throwing her coworker a tired smile.

“Thank you so much!” Harper called out, wheeling back to her desk. “You want anything?”

Clarke shouted her request—a very large black coffee with lots of cream and sugar—as she gathered up her paperwork and moved to the front. She hadn’t even been looking at the first sheet for half of a minute before someone approached her.

“Is this where I check in?” A pretty brunette with green eyes asked, her face pinched in frustration.

“Yes,” Clarke responded in a clipped tone, because it was better to head off rude patients at the start.

“So?” The girl continued, staring at her with a narrowed gaze.

Clarke slapped a clipboard with the proper admittance paperwork and a pen up on the counter. “Fill these out in their entirety, then bring them back here when you’re done.”

“Thanks,” the brunette bit out, flouncing away towards the bed area.

Clarke huffed in annoyance, at the girl and herself. She supposed she could have been nicer, but her hangover was not subsiding, which made her grouchy. Still, her supervisor wouldn’t be pleased if the girl filed a complaint. As Clarke glanced at the daily stack of pre-prepared admittance clipboards, she realized Harper had forgotten to include one of the forms in the packages. Groaning, Clarke grabbed the missing paper and rounded the front desk. As she chased after the girl, her head began to pound at her hurried movements.

Clarke couldn’t have been more surprised when the reason for her pounding head was sitting on the cot next to the annoyed brunette. The girl was hunched over the clipboard, scribbling away at the paperwork, and so didn’t see her, but the guy—the one from the bar—did immediately. He startled at first, then a soft half-smile slid onto his bruised, cut-up face. Clarke flushed, wishing she had chosen something other than her wrinkled henley to wear today. Brushing wayward strands of hair behind her ear, she approached the pair slowly, puzzled as to how he had ended up injured and in the ER.

“Miss?” She asked hesitantly. “I’m sorry, there is one more form you need to fill out.”

The girl snatched it from her hand roughly, and Clarke hissed in pain as she felt the paper slice a small cut onto her palm.

“Octavia!” The guy hissed. “Apologize.”

“Sorry,” the girl grumbled through grit teeth.

“Octavia,” he warned again.

“It’s your fault we’re here filling out lousy paperwork in the first place! You just had to go and pick a fight with Lincoln, like he wasn’t going to defend himself, stupid,” she groused before launching off the cot and retreating to the rows of waiting room chairs around the corner.

“So, how’s the love and support going?” Clarke asked lightly, raising an eyebrow.

The guy hummed, closing his eyes and chuckling. “Oh, so well.”

Clarke joined him with a soft laugh. “How did you manage to mess it up?”

His eyes popped open, amusement and a challenge in them. “So, you assume this is my fault? Even though I’m the injured one?”

“That is what your sister said. So, I’m assuming you went less love-and-support, and more fists-and-fury on the boyfriend?”

He huffed, anger flashing across his face. “He got her arrested. And for the record, he gave as good as he got.”

“And none of it was her fault?” After their brief introduction, Clarke couldn’t imagine the fiery young woman hadn’t at least contributed a bit to whatever trouble she had gotten into. If her instincts were correct, she would bet the girl was in fact the source of the problem.

The thunderous expression on his face darkened. “Lincoln even said it was all his idea.”

Clarke tried to suppress a grin, because clearly logic went out the window with this guy when it came to his sister. “And do you really think he would let her take any of the responsibility? Or that blaming her even a little would make you like him more?”

After a few brief seconds of intense thought, he pursed his lip and sighed. “I should’ve never asked for your help. You’re actually making me want to like the guy.”

At that, she laughed again, tapping her finger against his knee. “Love and support,” she teased, a warm, bubbly feeling blooming in her chest as she watched him smile at her words.

“Love and support,” he repeated in mock exapseration. Then his expression turned towards playful, and he asked, “So, if I listen to your advice, do I get to know your name?”

Ducking her head, Clarke tried to hide her pleased reaction, but he just tipped her chin up to meet his amused stare. Quirking her mouth to one side, Clarke fixed her expression into a haughty one, daring him to make fun of her. Instead, he just kept looking at her, still amused, waiting for an answer.

Strangely, her head no longer throbbed, instead had a lightness to it. The giddiness made her feel bold, and brash, like she had last night at the bar. So, instead of telling him her name, she teased, “You’re going to get much more than that.”

Then she leaned in and kissed him, softly, lightly, resting her hands on his knees. His hands came to grip her waist, broad and warm, tugging her in a bit closer. As the kiss began to get a bit more heated, more insistent, she felt him flinch underneath her.

“Sorry,” she whispered sheepishly, reaching up to probe the cut on his lip.

“I’m not complaining,” he said with a brazen smile, drumming his fingers along her sides. “And it’s Bellamy.”

“Clarke,” she murmured happily. “My name is Clarke.”

“Nice to meet you,” he responded before kissing her again, long and slow. “Now can I get your number, so the next time I kiss you, it isn’t in a hospital emergency room?”

Laughing, Clarke nodded, feeling hopeful at the promise in his voice and suddenly very glad that she had taken the early morning shift today. As she continued to fall deeper into the kiss, everything else—her hangover, his bruises, and the long day ahead—fell away as all of her sense narrowed down to just Bellamy.

The two of them were so absorbed in each other that neither saw the gleefully surprised Octavia peeking at them from around the corner. When a familiar hand touched her waist, she reached back and clutched it in excitement.

“Shouldn’t we go over there and introduce ourselves?” Lincoln whispered in her ear.

“Don’t you dare!” She insisted. “I can’t even remember the last time my brother mentioned a girl, let alone was infatuated enough to kiss her in public, especially with me around. I’ll never let him live this down, not after what happened with you to this morning.”

"That was my fault as well, so be nice,” Lincoln warned.

Octavia was about to retort with a sarcastic quip, but as she took in her brother’s expression, her devious smile softened and she said quietly, “He looks so happy.”

Lincoln didn’t reply, because he knew exactly what Bellamy was feeling, because of the girl in front of him. “Then let him be.”

Whipping around, Octavia threw her arms around his neck, tipping her head up expectantly. Lincoln groaned softly.

“Hey, my brother’s doing it,” she said smugly.

“What am I going to do with you?” Lincoln grumbled good-naturedly.

"Kiss me,” she whispered seductively, then laughed wildly as his riled expression.

After a quick, exasperated shake his head, Lincoln did just that, because this girl, his girl, was utterly irresistible.

           

_For a love that rewinds all the rest_

_That takes and makes a heart like mine brand new_

_I’m so overdue for someone like you_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are in italics and do not belong to me. Credit to Jillian Jaqueline.


End file.
